


Bad Ideas

by NerdsLikeUs



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Nick is a dummy but we love him anyway, Pining, post 17x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 04:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21488443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsLikeUs/pseuds/NerdsLikeUs
Summary: Bad ideasI know where they leadBut I got too many to sleepAnd I can’t get enough, noI wanna kiss you standing up
Relationships: Ellie Bishop/Nick Torres
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Bad Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> My fanfic writing brain has been re-awoken by the mess of confusion and unsaid feelings that is Ellick. Thanks NCIS for once again destroying my heart.  
Inspired by the song of the same name by Tessa Violet. If you want Ellick feels go listen!
> 
> Edit: This fic now has a companion piece, 'Crush', from Ellie's POV from around the same time.

_“I think of you like a sister.” _  
He is an idiot. And a coward. And an idiot.  
She thinks of him like a brother. They have zero chemistry. They are co-workers and friends.  
He wants to kiss her more than anything.  
Did he mention he’s an idiot?  
Nick groans and rolls onto his back. The shadows on the ceiling above his bed do little to comfort or distract him. Stupid shadows.  
_“Overprotective?” _  
_ “Yeah. Overprotective.” _  
He’d almost said it. _Jealous._ Maybe if she hadn’t interjected, hadn’t given him an easy out, he would have. He would have said _I was jealous, and it was so obvious my super hot girlfriend broke up with me because even she could tell I was in love with you._  
Maybe he wouldn’t have said the super hot girlfriend part.  
Or maybe he would have, because he is an idiot.  
He groans again and shoves the heels of his hands into his eyes, shutting out the shadows and their mocking stares. Unfortunately the weird colours and shapes beneath his eyelids are just as judgemental.  
He’d messed up. He’d been a dick then called her his sister and there’s no going back to flirting and hoping. Despite this, he imagines going to her place now, still in his pyjamas in the dark of too-early morning, and waking her up with a _“Hey, hope this isn’t rude but I want to make out. I know I said you were like my sister but I was lying because Jimmy said we have no chemistry. Want to find out if he’s right?” _  
He wonders if he’s ever had a worse idea. He wonders if it would worth just walking up and kissing her in the morning, in the middle of the bullpen, in front of god and Gibbs and everybody, just to know what it would be like. Just to know the taste of her tongue and the feel of her teeth. Just to know the colour of her eyes when their foreheads pressed together. He would lose her and his friends and probably his job, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea if it meant he got to hold her hand.  
He turns to face the wall and wonders what smell she would leave on the sheets.  
God, he’s pathetic.  
He gives up on sleep, sitting up against the wall and flicking on his bedside light. The dim glow barely edges out the shadows, but seems at least a little kinder than the dark.  
He checks his phone out of habit, but of course no one has texted him because it’s almost 4am and every reasonable human who isn’t crushing on their best friend/co-worker is asleep. He scrolls through the measly late-night offerings of Instagram, Twitter, and Reddit before finally giving up and opening Ellie’s messages. She’d sent one just a few hours earlier, telling him the address of the burger place they’d taken separate cars to, and he reads it an embarrassing number of times. He’d over-analysed her every word all night, trying to figure out if she was upset (about being his sister or Ricky leaving town or _anything_) but she seemed her normal self: cheerful, proud for their solved case, eating too much and teasing him about watching his figure.  
No, Ellie was fine. It was him that was being weird - not knowing quite what to say, looking at her too much, hearing Jimmy’s words like a cricket in his ear every time Ellie laughed:_ that’s why we have that rule._ She asked him if he was okay a of couple times - when he took too long to come back with a sassy comment or stared into his drink for longer than was normal to keep from looking at her. That was the worst part - not the embarrassment of being called out by Palmer or the feeling of losing himself or the constant tug towards her in his gut - it was the fact that he felt like he was failing at being her friend. It was all he had of her, her friendship, and he was mucking it up with his jealously and pining.  
His phone is becoming as judgemental as the shadows, so he puts it back on his nightstand just in case. Who knows what it would think if the sleep deprivation got to him and he accidentally texts Ellie _I can’t sleep because I want to kiss you. _  
Okay, smitten was definitely a bad look on him. He is _Nick Torres_, and he does not fall head over heels and start acting like a lovesick goon. He’s suave and fit and sexy.  
And emotionally detached.  
And knows, logically, that none of the inanimate things in his bedroom have any feelings about him one way or the other.  
He switches off the light, and the taunting shadows return, edges of Ellie’s smile in every curl of light.  
He huffs a sigh and rolls onto his stomach so his face is smashed into the pillow.  
He’s an idiot.


End file.
